Behind the Front Sideline
by youbetcha
Summary: Don't read this. I'm rewriting the entire thing and only using this as a rough draft.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE  
  
The cold November wind whipped around me as I sat in the bleachers, gazing out at the varsity athletic field. It was late in November, and the marching band season had just ended. Our final performance was no more than a week ago. It had been three months, three hard months that I had been there. It seemed all so long ago.  
  
I was still an 8th grader, yes, but somehow I felt much older at that moment, gazing out across the varsity field that we had practiced on so many times. The wind chilled me again, cutting through my thin jacket that said "Ponra High School marching band."  
  
This was the year they had allowed 8th graders to join the high school marching band. My friend Alora convinced me, and so I had, back in May. But that was long ago. Now it was over.and the three months that seemed to change my entire life were over.  
  
I got down from the bleachers I was sitting in, and leaned against the fence. If we had practice today, the pit crew would be right in front of where I was, sitting around while all the band members glared jealously at them. Well, in that respect they were lucky. I, as a member of the colorguard, would also be envious.  
  
With another gust of wind, I thought I could faintly hear the sound of the colorguard instructor, my instructor, calling, "Guard, right shoulder arms!" It sounded so close.and yet so distant. Remembering Mrs. Loren, the guard instructor, I couldn't help but reflect. Reflect on those three months that changed my life, when I somehow became more than a little 8th grader. . . 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
"Come on, Christine, you have to!" Alora poked me in the shoulder again. It was May, and I was just ending my 7th grade year. In Ponra Middle school, they had made a new rule that said 8th graders could join the Ponra High School marching band.  
  
One of my teachers, my social studies teacher by the name of Mrs. Loren, was also the instructor of our little middle school colorguard. Since I admired Mrs. Loren greatly, I had joined the little middle school colorguard. So had two of my good friends, Alora and Nelly. I had to admit, I loved the little colorguard a lot. But as soon as the marching band rule came out, Mrs. Loren pounced on the three of us to try and convince us to join the high school colorguard, for marching band.  
  
Alora had agreed immediately. Alora loved colorguard and it showed, and when she heard that we could be a part of a bigger, competitive colorguard, she jumped on the chance extremely quick.  
  
Nelly, likewise, had wanted to join. She didn't say why except that it 'sounded interesting.' And being that Nelly always liked to try new things, here was her chance.  
  
So now, as we stood outside during lunch period, Alora and Nelly were trying to convince me to join as well.  
  
"I don't have to." I replied, crossing my arms. "Who says I have to?" "I do." Alora said. "I'm joining. Nelly's joining. So why can't you?" "Okay, Becky's not, and Maya's not, and they're both our age. Maya's going to be in high school, why can't she?" I protested. "Because we don't know Becky." Alora replied. "And we know you."  
  
I sighed. They would not give this up! They had been doing it for days, and it was wearing down my defense. I didn't really want to do this-it was high school, for heaven's sake, did any of them understand that? I was the shy little girl that hides in the back and barely says anything. I wasn't ready to go face to face with high school people!  
  
But Alora had already countered that argument. Alora was a hide in the back person too, and she was joining. My arguments were getting less-they were getting me closer and closer to saying 'yes.' "Christine, pleeeease?" Nelly gave me a little pout and pretended to look really said. This was known as the 'sad puppy' look. It was guaranteed to help wear away any parent when they said 'no' to something, and now they were trying it on me. "Give me one good reason." I said. "'Cause me and Nelly are joining. And it'll be fun, you know? I mean we'll have an advantage over the other soon-to-be 8th graders, won't we? We'll know high school people!" Alora grinned at me. "Well, I." "You'll join." "I will not!"  
  
Mrs. Loren chose this moment to walk by. "Oh, hello, Christine, Alora, Nelly." She said to us. Alora grinned and waved. "So, Christine, have you decided yet? Whether or not you're joining?" Now ~thi~s was wearing down my defenses. This was Mrs. Loren! I admired her; she was like an idol to me, being that I didn't have any older siblings. "Umm." I said.  
  
"She is." Alora interrupted. "Yeah." Nelly agreed. "She just told us yes." I scowled at both of them. "Well? Are you?" Mrs. Loren looked at me, expecting an answer to come from me myself.  
  
Glaring once again at Nelly and Alora, I said, "I most certainly am.ow!" Alora stepped on my foot, causing me to cut off my sentence. I was meaning to say 'I most certainly am not!' but Alora knew that, and, well, cut me off. "Oh, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Loren exclaimed. "I'm so glad you've decided to after all. The first meeting is next Wednesday, I'm sure you know that. I'll look forward to seeing you there!" And she walked off.  
  
I turned to glare at Alora, who merely smiled sweetly under the intensity of my glare. "Alora, you cut me off!" I said. Alora continued to smile sweetly and innocently. "I know." She replied, grinning. "I knew you were going to say no, so I had to get you to say yes." I threw up my hands in annoyance. "This is a high school colorguard you were getting me to join!" I said in aggravation-aggravation that fell upon deaf ears. "I know." Alora said again. "But now you're stuck, now you're coming to the meeting next week. My work here is done, see you later!" Alora gave me another irritating grin and flounced off to say hi to her other friends. I turned to Nelly, who was grinning at me, too. "Oh, you too?" I said. "Well, now all three of us are going to be in it! How cool is that!" "You agree with Alora?" "Yes!" I should have known. The bell rang at that moment, cutting short any reply I could have said to Nelly.  
  
"This is a conspiracy." I muttered as I trudged inside to my 8th period class.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As much as I resented it, a week later I had to go to the meeting. It was after school from 3-5 at the high school, within walking distance from middle school. After the bell rang and the day ended, I walked up to the high school from here. I arrived a little after three, and Alora and Nelly were already there because they got a ride from Mrs. Oliande, the mother for Danielle Oliande. Danielle, I heard, was one of the 'pit crew' for the marching band. I had no idea, at the time, what a 'pit crew' was.  
  
So when I finally got there, the rest of the.colorguard.was already there. They all had a high school-y look to them-so much older than us little middle school people. Alora's face turned into one of relief when she saw me. While Alora did like this, she tended to be very shy in front of people just as I am, and prefers having either me or Nelly there when she is. Nelly was already there, but Alora was relieved just the same. She made a motion for me to 'come over here quickly.'  
  
I got out of my mom's car, giving her instructions to 'pick me up at 5' and then darted onto the lawn.  
  
The lawn was rather small, with a tree on either side of it. It was in front of the band room where the band practices, and seemed to be at the back of this high school. I walked over and stood next to Alora, looking in a rather frightened way at the older high school people. ~Now ~I was afraid. But Mrs. Loren was there, so it seemed okay.  
  
"Alright," Mrs. Loren announced. "Now that we're all here, I want you all to sit in a circle and introduce yourselves, because I see a lot of new faces here." She scanned us all as we all went to sit in the circle. "First of all, my name is Mrs. Loren, and I'll be your instructor this year. Many of you already know me from the middle school." She glanced at us when she said that. "Now, starting with Talie, the captain."  
  
Talie was an asian girl. She began by saying, "Hey everyone! What a great year this is going to be. As Mrs. Loren said, I see lots of new people, including three 8th graders that are going to be with us. I'm Talie, I'm going to be your captain. This is my first year as captain, though it is my second year in the colorguard. I'm going to be a sophomore. I know it's going to be a great year, so welcome everyone!" Talie seemed nice enough. It went on next to Cara, the co-captain. Cara was a really energetic and happy girl with brown hair "My name's Cara and it's great to be back! I'm going to be a junior next year. I've been doing colorguard in marching band since 8th grade and I am really looking forward to continue!" She seemed really happy about this.  
  
We all went around in a circle, meeting Alisa, Carrie, Don (the only guy in the whole guard), Shelley, Chrisabel, and Katrina (Kat). Finally, they came to Alora, who suddenly seemed to shrink. "Hi, my name's Alora." She began. "I'm an 8th grader, and I'm kind of shy, but Mrs. Loren said this was fun so I decided to join and see what it's like." She said quickly, before looking at me and indicating it was my turn. "Hi my name's Christine and I'm joining because Alora and Nelly and Mrs. Loren convinced me too and I want so see what it's like." I blurted out quickly. "And I'm going to be an 8th grader too."  
  
Ah, good, that was over with. Now their attention was off me and onto Nelly, who seemed a lot more confident than either me or Alora.  
  
"Hey! My name's Nelly, and I'm going to be an 8th grader too. I was in colorguard with Mrs. Loren and it was really fun. I've never been in marching band but heard it was really fun!" She grinned. Several of the others grinned back.  
  
Soon the meeting was over. Alora came to me and said, "Well, look's like you're stuck." She grinned. "I guess if you come to this meeting, you'll have to stay in." I sighed. Mrs. Loren was watching me. "Well, I guess so." I replied, resigned. "Looks like I have to. But we'll all be in it together, right?" I said. Nelly nodded; so did Alora.  
  
"Yeah." Alora said. "I've never been in a high school marching band, but I suppose we'll all survive together, right?"  
  
"Looks so." I replied. "Yeah." Nelly finished. "We will." 


	3. Chapter Two

((a/n: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile! I haven't had any time to write, being that all the free time I had after school has been taken up by what else but marching band. Championships is soon, though, and once November's over I'll have a lot more time because I'm not joining winter guard. So sorry for the delay, I WILL be writing a lot more of this story when I have more time. And thank you to all who reviewed! There was awhile where I didn't get any and was thinking, "Huh, no reviews" and then one day I decided to check and found out I got reviews, so THANK YOU!!!))  
  
The bell rang loudly, snapping my attention from the book I was reading in chorus class to the fact that the bell rang. On this day, the ringing bell could mean only one thing---SCHOOL WAS OVER!! I stuffed my book away, letting an enormous grin spread across my face. As of now, my 7th grade year was over, and I had an entire summer to look forward too!  
  
I waved goodbye to my chorus teacher, knowing I would see her next year, and ran down to my locker for the last time. Grinning in barely suppressed triumph of surviving the school year, I flipped my combination and took my jacket out of my locker for the last time.  
  
Ahhh, for the last time! How wonderful that sounded! The sheer fact of school ending for the summer was enough to make anyone dance for joy. School was over. . .over. . .over. . .  
  
"Hey, Christine, wait up!" It was Alora. I turned around, stuffing my last bit of junk into my bag before turning to meet her. "Hey, 'Lora." I said. "We have practice tomorrow. You can come sleepover my house after it's over, my mom said so!" She grinned. Oh great.practice tomorrow?  
  
Well, at least I had Alora's house to look forward to. It was always fun sleeping over.  
  
But it was the practice that would kill me. I had been to several of their practices since the first meeting, and what struck me was that I.wasn't good enough. All these people seemed to have so much more experience, and seemed to know so much more than I did. I felt intimidated.and, well, not good enough. Alora was pretty good. Cara had offered to help me once. Cara, I had to admit, was pretty nice. Even though she would be a junior in high school, the fact that we were 'little middle school 8th graders' didn't seem to bother her. She was very perky, and always seemed to want to help out. But I promised Alora and Nelly that I'd stay in.I couldn't break that promise.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be there." I told Alora. "On time."  
  
**Two months later, August 2001**  
  
I had just gotten back from a lovely vacation in Florida. It was now August 10th, 2001, and a day before band camp started. But what was band camp, anyway? Being that I've never done this before, I didn't know a thing about band camp. I saw on the schedule that it was every day for a week from 8 in the morning to 4 in the afternoon, with one day staying until 10 at night and another day staying until 8 at night. But that just sounded so preposterous that I quickly dismissed the idea, and kept the thought of this 'band camp' out of my mind.  
  
Until now.  
  
Band camp was tomorrow, as Alora so kindly reminded me on my answering machine of. By now we had had several more practices, and I began to feel more and more intimidated each time. These people were all so much better, and so good at this, and here I could hardly get any of the work they were teaching me.  
  
So how would I survive band camp? Especially when I didn't even know what it was?  
  
It was the next morning when I told my mom I had made a very important decision: I was quitting. "I can't do this!" I announced to my mom in frustration the morning of band camp. "I don't get it, and they're all so much better than me. I'm quitting, I can't do this. If you want I'll tell Mrs. Loren today." I said. Mom understood, which surprised me, but she reinforced the idea of me telling Mrs. Loren. And Alora.  
  
The hardest part of my 'quitting' would be telling Mrs. Loren. I admired her greatly, and telling her that I quit would be very hard.  
  
But seemingly, if I had any chance of 'surviving', I'd have to tell her sooner or later.  
  
Anyway, early the next morning my alarm clock went off. I woke up and shut it off. . .I was still sure I had the most annoying alarm clock in the world. It wasn't like most alarm clocks, it was the buzzing kind that wouldn't stop buzzing until you shut it off. The buzzing would just get louder until I shut it off, and if I didn't it would continue buzzing for more than an hour after the time I set it for. It must be made so that I can't avoid it.  
  
Groaning and rubbing my eyes, I ate a quick breakfast before changing. I then packed my bag for band camp. Checking over the list, I put in a couple of frozen water bottles, a lunch, a notepad, and a pen. Soon I was ready. . .I'd be going to band camp and making the announcement to Mrs. Loren herself.  
  
~That~ would be hard.  
  
"Come on, Christine." My mom said, nodding seriously at me. She knew that I would be telling Mrs. Loren this. Little did she know how hard it would be fore me. I sighed, picking up my 'band camp bag' and getting into the car. "Christine, are you sure you're up to this? Just continue, I'm sure it'll get better." I shook my head. "I'm not good enough. Mrs. Loren'll understand that." I replied. Mrs. Loren was very understanding.  
  
So we drove there, and soon I got to the high school. I've been to the high school before, but never like this. I liked my middle school. . .it was nice and small and I could find my way around. I knew I'd be going to this high school next year, but I probably wouldn't be in marching band next year either. I got out of the car, and mom got out with me. She was going to go with me to tell Mrs. Loren.  
  
Taking a deep breath, I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed into the school. My confidence, all the confidence I had about telling her this before, went shooting out the window. How was I to do this? Shaking my head, I went into the cafeteria with my mom and scanned for Mrs. Loren. There she was-over by the door, preparing for the morning, whatever the morning held in store.  
  
"Christine!" She called, spotting me and waving me over. "There you are! I thought you wouldn't be coming. Alora said you'd be late, but looks like your not." She gave me that bright smile that made me feel so. . .bad. "Christine has something to tell you." My mom said to me, giving me a look that said, 'well, you can't get out of this now.' Mrs. Loren raised an eyebrow at me.  
  
"Um, Mrs. Loren?" I began with a question. "Yes?" Taking a deep breath, I said what I had to say as quickly as I could say it. "I've been to many practices and stuff. Alora's good and Nelly's good but I'm not as good at that. The others are a lot more experienced than I am and I know I am not as good as they are. I can't do this. . .it's too much and I know I'll bring everyone down because I am not as good as them. So I'm going to. . .quit. . .and maybe I'll try again next year or something."  
  
I said all of this very fast to get it out as quick as I could.  
  
Mrs. Loren then looked at me very seriously. "Christine," She began. "I know you are not very good right now. . .no one is very good when they start out." She lay a hand on my shoulder. "But I know you, and you have a talent for this. Just because you are new it doesn't mean that you won't be good. You'll be very good if you keep going. Don't let one thing get you down." I nodded at her. "Christine, I know you can do this. Don't underestimate yourself, I ~believe~ you can do this. If that's not enough, I don't know what is."  
  
My mind immediately went whirling, and everything I thought of doing went flying out the window along with my confidence. "But. . ." "No buts." Mrs. Loren shook her head firmly. "Christine, I really don't want you to quit. I believe in you, I believe you can do it and if you stay you will be great." I blinked, suddenly feeling. . .different. I trusted Mrs. Loren, she was, I guess, my own personal heroine (or "shero", if you know what I mean). Now that ~she~ was saying this, it changed everything.  
  
Then Cara came over, seeing me talking to Mrs. Loren. "What's wrong?" She asked. "Nothing. . ." I said. "No, Christine thinks she's not skilled enough for the guard and wants to quit." Mrs. Loren exclaimed. Cara looked at me. "Quit? No, you can't quit!" She said. "You'd be really good, I can tell. I was like that, too. . .I didn't believe I was good enough. And now it's my 4th year doing this and I'm co-captain. . .I started in 8th grade, too!" Cara was really enthusiastic, and her bubbly perkiness started to change my opinions too.  
  
"Don't worry. I'll watch out for you, and I'll help you if you need it. Just promise me you'll stay." Cara said. "You must stay." Mrs. Loren added. "Do it for me. Do it for Cara. Do it for Alora and Nelly."  
  
I looked at my mom. She nodded. . .she wanted me to stay as well. "Okay," I said. "I'll stay. I'll stay for band camp and for the season and I'll do what I can do."  
  
Cara hugged me happily. "It'll be great, trust me." She said, grinning at me before going to sit with the rest of the colorguard. Mrs. Loren smiled at me. "I'm proud of you staying." She told me. "Now, go home and get ready and I'll see you in a half an hour." I smiled at her. "Okay." I said. "I'll stay."  
  
~For you~ I thought. ~I will stay. And I'll stay for you. . .only for you.~  
  
((so, how bad was that? Anyway I'll keep writing more just because I myself want to. And the next chapter will be the very first band camp. . .oh what fun! Review anyway ( )) 


	4. Chapter Three

((a/n: Reviews=smashing! Thanks to all the smashing people who reviewed))  
  
**BAND CAMP**  
  
My promise made, I went home and came back a half an hour later ready for band camp. Of course now I ~really~ didn't know what I was getting myself into. I just figured that band camp would just be learning a bunch of routines that the guard would perform in front of people.  
  
That's probably because, in my state of newness, I had completely and utterly ignored the fact that yes I was in colorguard, but that I was also in ~marching band~. I had completely overlooked the fact of why exactly they called it "marching band."  
  
In the morning I brought out a notepad and paper with me, wondering what I was going to use it for. Soon, though, Mrs. Loren told us. "Alright, everybody is going to go outside for the first part of the day, and you'll learn some of your drill spots for the show this year."  
  
Wait a minute. . .drill spots?  
  
Nelly voiced what I was thinking. "Um, Mrs. Loren? What are 'drill spots'?" She asked. "Ah, right, you're new. Drill spots is where we march in the field. You'll learn a series of spots that are connected and when you march in them they will show patterns and such. It's why we're called a marching band." Nelly's mouth dropped at this point. I don't think that me, Alora, or Nelly were expecting that we'd have to walk (no, march) while doing these routines! But evidently. . .now we had to.  
  
Me, Nelly, and Alora all exchanged looks as we went outside. "Drills. . .marching. . .I don't believe this." Nelly said. "Yeah." I agreed. We went up to a field that I later learned as 'the practice field.' But for now it was the field. . .of band camp. Shannon the drum major and Mr. Piquano the marching band instructor himself gave us a brief pre-band camp talk, and then. . .then the real band camp began.  
  
Shannon, Marc the Drill Guy, and Mrs. Loren gave out all the drill spots. Naturally I was very confused, but tried my best to hide my confusion as I wrote down these. . .'drill spots' on my 'dot book.' Splitting the 35 and the 40, 2 steps back from the hash. What the heck was a hash? And how am ~I~ supposed to know where a 35 and a 40 was? Such went my first morning in band camp. I soon learned the layout of the field, and got a rough idea of what 'inside' and 'outside' meant, and also 'splitting' and 'hash marks.' These were all marching band terms I knew I'd need to know.  
  
But how long was the morning, anyway?? By 10:30, I kept glancing at my watch repeatedly and noticing no change whatsoever. No change except the growing heat that relentlessly poured down upon us from the merciless sun, and the very melted water bottles over on that little concrete thing. Was this what band camp was about? As a new person, I didn't know, and was hardly expecting this. Between drill spots, and trying to get my mind off the fact that I would love nothing better than to sit down right now, I absentmindedly wrote random parts of a story I was working on on a page in my dot book. Soon, and thankfully, my watch read '12:00' and the director and Drill Guy called everyone in. "Well, so far it's gone pretty well." Mr. Piquano said. "We've gotten about 11 pages of drill done, and we're on a pretty good schedule. I'm sure you guys are all tired so go and have lunch and then we'll split for guard and music after lunch." Mr. Piquano and the Drill Guy waved us off.  
  
Me, Nelly, and Alora immediately clustered together. Alora's face was sunburned, and Nelly's hair was all messy. "Well, that was something." Alora said. We made a feeble attempt at running to catch up with the rest of the guard. Soon we gave up all pretense of running and more like dragged ourselves to the place where our water bottles were. "Ah, the joys of water." Alora remarked as we took our now completely melted bottles to drink from. "The joys of ~melted~ water." Nelly muttered.  
  
When we got our lunch, we walked into the cafeteria and looked around, bewildered. "Where are we supposed to sit, anyway?" Nelly whispered. "I don't know." I replied. "Look for Cara or Talie or someone." We looked and tried to find them, but with no success. "Lovely." Alora said dryly.  
  
"Alora! Nelly! Christine!" I heard Mrs. Loren's voice calling all three of us. I relaxed slightly; at least I knew Mrs. Loren. She came up behind us, showing us to the 'guard table'. Cara waved cheerfully, telling everyone to 'move over and make a seat for the 8th graders'. "Yeah, we're 'the 8th graders.'" Alora whispered to me. "Go ahead, sit down. We don't bite." Said Chrisabel. Alora gave a nervous smile and we all sat down, Mrs. Loren sitting next to me. "So, how'd you guys like your first morning of band camp?" Mrs. Loren asked everyone. "Uhh. . ." Nelly said. "It was. . ." "Interesting." Alora interjected, knowing that was a safe enough answer. "I'm actually starting to like it!" Cara said cheerfully. "Being with all the other guard members." She grinned at everyone, and patted my head. "How'd you like it, Christine?" I blinked at her. "It was. . .okay, I guess. . ." Cara grinned again. "Yeah, it's definitely different as a new person." She said. The rest of the guard was deep in discussion of non- colorguard things. I caught snatches of "And then my boyfriend said, 'You know,'. . ." and "I'm just glad I passed the math section."  
  
"What do ~you~ three think of marching band so far? I mean, overall?" Mrs. Loren then asked us. "Uh. . ." again, I found myself at a loss for words. Then, knowing it was Mrs. Loren I was talking to after all, I blurted out, "What have I gotten myself into?" Then I snapped my mouth shut when I realized what I had just said. But Mrs. Loren didn't scold me, she just smiled. "It's always like that at first." She said. "Yeah, I kind of agree with Christine." Alora admitted, now more open to admitting it because I said it first. "Me too." Nelly said last. "I mean, everyone else seems to know each other so well, and we're just. . ." "8th graders." I finished. "Yeah." Alora and Nelly breathed. Mrs. Loren smiled and shook her head. "You guys shouldn't worry about it." She said. "Everyone has to start out sometime. Don't worry, you will get better as the season goes on. I promise that." I smiled slightly at that, but was still inwardly nervous. I took tiny bites of my lunch in hopes of settling my nervousness.  
  
After lunch was over, at 1:00, we 'split for guard and music.' The guard stayed in the cafeteria (oh blessed cafeteria, with air condition and no sun!) and the band went into the band room to memorize and practice their music. We got our flags and then set up in a 'block'. During the two hours of guard practice, we did some marching and then marching while doing drop spins. We also practiced some moves (and for Me, Nelly, and Alora, learned these new moves) and Mrs. Loren began making a rough routine. We learned it, only understanding about half of what was being taught. But I knew that Cara would help me later, anyway. Cara was so nice. She was a junior, yes, and being that much older than us you'd expect her to be standoffish and junior-y. But she wasn't, she seemed to act as an acting teacher to me, offering to help me with work and such. So for those hours we did really basic stuff, but I was very glad for the basic stuff.  
  
Lastly, in the last hour or so, we went back outside and went through the drill. By then I was exhausted and I seemed to have marched the feet off my legs. Even Nelly seemed tired. I tripped occasionally and missed some of my spots. But soon, and thankfully, the Drill Guy and Mr. Piquano called everyone in for the last time for a talking and then. . .ahhh, home. Mr. P's speech was shorter than the afternoon one. Glancing at my watch, it read, '3:50.' Hey, we were ending ~ten whole minutes~ early! Wow, what a triumph. Finally Mr. P finished, and we all once again traipsed down the hill. "What a successful day!" Cara said, coming up to me and patting me on the head again. "Why is everyone patting me on the head?" I exclaimed. Cara grinned. "Because it's fun!" She replied, giving me another pat. I rolled my eyes, my mood suddenly improving because I knew that the day was ~over~.  
  
Alora's mom drove me home that day. We talked briefly in the car about whether or not we would join next year. My answer was a definite 'no' and Alora's was a 'maybe.' Finally we arrived at my house. I took my bag and left, thanking Alora's mom for the ride home. I ran in, opened the door, dropped my bag in my room, and then collapsed on the couch, knowing then just exactly how tired I was.  
  
And then I realized. . .I still had four more days left.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The rest of the week was beyond anything I could have thought of. Before this week, I had no idea what band camp was. Now I knew: it was a nasty little trick they played on new people. If you asked what band camp was, they would smile and say, "Oh, it's where you learn your drill spots." And that was true. . .it ~was~ where you learned your drill spots. What they never tell you is that it is 8-12 hour days where you are outside in the sun (in the summer, mind you) standing in a field for hours on end. Nope, they never mention it to new people. And now I know why: if they did, all the new people would run screaming in the other direction.  
  
But the rest of the week went pretty much the same as the first day, except for Wednesday. Wednesday we had a 'bonfire night' as it was called. Most of the day was just an average band camp-ish day, but then at night we got a pizza dinner and then an ice cream sundae thing. We got to make sundaes and put lots of cool stuff on it. Then we had. . .the bonfire thing.  
  
That was actually pretty fun. We all went up past the field onto another field, one I had watched the fireworks on many times before. Then in the center they built a bonfire, and all band and colorguard members sat around it. I huddled in next to Alora, Nelly, and Alora's friend Jessica. Each band section leader got up and read something about a person, and then that person would come up and toast a marshmallow. Then they would either eat it or throw it in the fire (or, in the case of some trombone players, eat it while it's flaming), and it was said to bring good luck for the rest of the season.  
  
Talie and Cara went up for the guard. "Alora Jeter," Talie read, calling Alora up. "Well, so far it's been interesting. I remember you were really nervous on the first day and you seem to have pretty much gotten over some of it." Alora gave Talie a look like, 'gotten over??' "But it's been good. For a new person just starting out, you seem to have a good understanding of everything, even if you don't especially show it. It'll be a great season, don't worry." Talie gave Alora the marshmallow. She toasted it, ate it, then scrambled back to sit next to me. "That marshmallow tasted like stick." She remarked.  
  
"Christine Vendredy," Cara said, calling me up. "Everything started out a bit rough." She began. "Christine was afraid she wouldn't be as good as everyone else. But I promised to help her out and it seems to have been helping. A bit." She grinned at me. "But don't worry, after band camp, the worst of it is over. You'll do great this season. So come up, and toast your first marshmallow!" Cara handed me the marshmallow, which I stuck on the stick and put it in the fire. I wasn't about to eat a flaming marshmallow like one of the trombone players did, so I just ate it normally, and hoped very much that it would bring good luck as everyone said. And Alora was right; it did taste like stick.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I was very very glad when Friday came, and it was the last day of band camp. It meant all the sun and the heat and the marching was over (well, for now, at least) and my dot book could rest in peace on my shelf until school started. So Friday went well overall. . .and then night time came. The band camp notices said that Friday night would be 'preview night.' It would be a chance for all of our parents to come and watch what we had done that week so far. Both my parents were coming. I was slightly nervous because all the work we did at the end of our show I didn't quite understand. But oh well, for once Cara's enthusiasm got the better of me and I decided to 'go ahead and try.'  
  
When all the parents arrived, in order to prepare the band went into the band room and all the guard people went into what I would later know as 'the guard corner.' Chrisabel went into her bag and pulled out little bags of Lucky Charms. "Yes, I know it's cereal." She said, grinning at Carrie. "But it's for good luck for the performance tonight and for the rest of the season." We each got a little bag of our own, and then went back outside for. . .the preview show.  
  
My parents were sitting on the top of the hill. I waved in acknowledgement to them before going into the block that our guard does when doing drop spins. We did them, only 50 of them (a/n: 50 drop spins. . . not 500. . . how I miss those days) and then set up for the performance. The drum majors (there were two of them) went up to do their directing. And as the music started, it seemed as if I actually remembered all my drill spots. . . and even a bit of work to go along with them.  
  
The show went great, actually! We all moved pretty good and although I couldn't do any of the ending work we made our forms and the band played and the parents clapped for us! As we finished our show, I heard the claps and cheers from the parents, and felt a wave of. . .something. . .flow through me. What was it?? It was something unlike anything I've felt before. . .  
  
Pride. And adrenaline. The pride of completing a show, of performing it successfully in front of someone else. To hear the claps and applauds of people, even if it ~is~ only our parents, who would clap for us even if the entire guard just dropped their flags. It was that pride at that moment that seemed to make all of band camp worth it. Even though now that feeling was only a small hint of what would later come, it was something.  
  
And as we marched off that field, I caught up with Alora and Nelly, and they seemed to both be grinning as hugely as I was. For nothing could be greater than that feeling, however small it was.  
  
And now that band camp was over, and I was filled with the post-performance hyperness, I couldn't help but think. . .  
  
That perhaps the rest of the season won't be so bad after all. 


	5. Chapter Four

***about 1 month later***  
  
Well, it's been about a month since band camp ended. Over that month, I had gotten more accustomed to the marching aspect of marching band, and began to develop an understanding of the work. Yes, it still confused me a bit, and there were times that when walking through band members I'd whack one of them, but I still understood it! Some of the work made more sense now and I could sort of do it while marching. For a new person like me, that was an accomplishment. The new school year had started and now I was in 8th grade officially. And I had to secretly admit it was kind of cool (a/n: cool! Haha!) to be able to say to my friends, "Sorry, I can't talk, I have to go to marching band practice." But anyway, now that I was somewhat accustomed to marching and doing the routine, now came my next challenge . . .  
  
The first performance.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Christine!" "Mrf." "Christine!" "MRF!" "CHRIS-" "Okay, okay, I'm getting up!" What time was it, anyway? It was Saturday morning and my dad was ~waking me up?~ Whatever for? Why would I, Christine, have to wake up early Saturday morning for? Then a thought entered my dim morning brain . . . ~don't I have marching band practice or something?~ MARCHING BAND PRACTICE!! Oh, crud!  
  
I leaped out of bed, looking at my clock which now read, "8:15." Oh, crud, 8:15 . . . practice started at 9:00! I had completely forgotten about that until now! Today was the first ever performance . . . today was where we got to go perform at a football game. Our. . . first performance!  
  
I quickly got changed and speed-ate breakfast. This was my very first performance. . . my first! There was no way I was going to be late. I checked my uniform, seeing that all parts of it (and there were lots of parts to it, actually) were together and correct. Good. . . they were. I also stuffed some lunch into my bookbag and got ready as quick as I could.  
  
My dad drove me to the school. I got out of the car and went into the school, finding the 'guard corner' (yes, the band gets a band room and we have a 'guard corner.'). Alora was already there, and Nelly was just arriving also. Cara waved to me, and Chrisabel gave a small snore. Evidently she hadn't entirely awakened either. "Can you believe it?" Alora whispered. "Our first performance." I nodded at her. "Everyone up to the practice field!" Said Talie, coming out of the band room. Kat poked Chrisabel. "Wake up, we have to practice." She said. "Mmph." Chrisabel muttered, sitting up reluctantly. "Yeah okay." She said, sighing in a resigned way.  
  
We practiced for two and a half hours before loading the trucks. We all leaned our flags up against the truck and went to change.  
  
We all invaded the bathroom, taking over the stalls and leaving the band members to wait. I took the middle stall, taking out all of my uniform. "Darn, I hate tights." I heard someone (I think it was Kat) say. "Ouch!" Came another voice. "Can someone zip me?" Was another. THUMP! "Hey!" Someone tried to put their tights on but became imbalanced and knocked into someone, making them both fall over.  
  
I couldn't help but grin as I tightened the shiny cumber bun around my waist. So this was what it was like to change with the rest of the guard! I stuffed the last of my practice clothes into my garment bag and came out to see Kat, Talie, and Cara all tangled up on the floor and grinning. I shook my head and left, and as I got on the bus couldn't help but think, ~That's my colorguard.~  
  
Alora plopped next to me, shoving her garment bag next to mine. "Hey." She said. "Did Cara, Talie, and Kat ever get untangled?" I asked, grinning. "Yeah, believe it or not." She replied. "Hey, everyone, I have some stuff for you." Talie said as she got on the bus. "I usually always give everyone something at the first football game, as some of you older members know." Smiling, Talie handed each one of us a little bag of candy with a paper tied onto it that read, "Ponra High School Marching Band 2001-2002 First Football Game". I grinned, gently untying it and promising to save this for later. "Thank you, Talie." We all chorused. Shelley also had stuff for us. She gave us little bags with a cookie in it.  
  
"Wow, they are so nice." Alora whispered. "Doing all this stuff for us." "Yeah." I whispered back, selecting a little hard candy from the bag and eating it. "They are nice." I agreed.  
  
We drove to the game, which was at a really weird stadium. The football field itself was about 10 minutes away from the actual school that it belonged to. "Is it usually like this?" Nelly asked. "No, it's just this field, I think." Kat said reassuringly.  
  
We left the bus and got our flags from the truck upon arrival. I took my two flags (at the time there were only two) and leaned them against the bleachers. We dropped our stuff in the bleachers themselves by where the band was. Me, Nelly, and Alora quickly huddled together. "I am so nervous." Alora said. "Yeah." Nelly agreed. "Oh, don't be!" Cara said, urging us down by our flags and out of our tight group in the bleachers. "It's only a football game, after all." "What do you mean 'only a football game'?" Alora demanded. "It's our first performance!" "Yes, true. But it's not a competition!" And Cara bounced off, leaving us to follow her.  
  
"Competition . . .?" Nelly said, looking at us two. "Dunno what that is." Replied Alora. "It's that thing on the schedule that says 'September 22nd, Competition at Pentano 4 pm.'" I added. "Doesn't tell us anything." Alora muttered as we got our flags and went to join the rest of the guard. We set up in a block, and Mrs. Loren told us to go ahead and do 50 drop spins. I was still not used to this and had to struggle through the last twenty. Then she motioned for us to line up. "Go ahead and line up with the rest of the band." Mrs. Loren said. "And I wish you all the best of luck at your first performance." I smiled at her, trying to disguise my nervousness.  
  
We then lined up. I gave a final check of my skirt and a glance at the field before the drum major called, "Band, atten-hut!" And everyone replied, "Ponra Hut!" The drummers began their opening cadence, we all marked time, and then. . . our first performance was to begin.  
  
"Good luck." Hissed Dani from behind me. "Thanks, you too." I hissed back.  
  
"Now entering the field, the Ponra High School marching band!" The loudspeaker blared, announcing us to the spectators. I felt the Astroturf of the field under my marching boots for the very first time. And I felt that feeling of pride once again. . . and what a grand feeling it was.  
  
I set up my flags and returned to the opening spot. The band was behind a wall, and so were we. As we all stood behind the wall in an orderly fashion, we exchanged final 'good lucks' before the band set up. ~Ready or not, here we go.~ I thought when the music started. And then. . . well, and then the music started. It gave me confidence.I felt as if I could really actually do this.  
  
"One, two, one two three four!" The drum major said. The first drum beat struck, and from then on, it was entirely up to us!  
  
~******~  
  
Buh dadum.bumbadum! The final drum rang out through the entire field as the flag I tossed sailed in the wind before returning to my hands. We had done it! We had truly done the show! The crowd cheered and applauded, even all the the-lights-are-on-but-nobody's-home football players (sorry to all you football fans here) clapped. That sense of pride I felt briefly at the preview show during band camp returned, and I truly felt part of the marching band at this point. I couldn't keep the smirk off my face as I gathered the flags and marched off the field.  
  
When the trucks were once again loaded, we all of course went ahead and congratulated each other. "Wow, we did it!!" Alora said excitedly. "I dropped my flag." Nelly said dryly. "Everyone does at the first performance." Mrs. Loren said, coming in to congratulate us, the three new people. "But that's why we have other performances and other competitions before championships." "Yeah." Nelly said. "So, how do you guys all think you did?" She asked the entire guard.  
  
"Well, for a first performance, that wasn't that bad." Talie said. "And I believe I can speak for everyone." The guard all nodded, bobbing their heads together. "Usually we totally screw it up. But we didn't today! I think we have a really good chance of taking championships this season." Talie added. Me and Alora exchanged grins. . .this was definitely good!  
  
Then we went back to the stands, sitting down next to our stuff as the band played 'pep music.' I zoned out for the entire game because I didn't really like football all too much. But later when my dad came to pick me up and I threw my stuff in the car, he asked, "So, how was your first game?"  
  
"It was good!" I said. "We ROCK!" And I grinned, and felt proud of our marching band. "Not as bad as you thought?" My dad asked.  
  
"No. . . it actually wasn't."  
  
((so, how was that? Did it make any sense at all? Hey Julia, we killed the box! Mambo!)) 


	6. Chapter Five

**Wednesday, a week later**  
  
"Alright, everybody in!" Called the Drill Guy, Nick (now I knew his name!). I stripped my flag and walked in to the circle where all the band was gathered. Another practice done, another practice over! Now it was time for Nick's famous end-of-practice speech, the one he gave at the end of every practice/rehearsal/performance (well we've only had one performance, but he still gave the speech then).  
  
"That was a pretty good runthru." Nick said, nodding at all of us. "We're getting better at marching and adding music and the guard is even getting better at doing their drill and work. They learn new work every day." He nodded his approval at us, the colorguard. "It's good we're making this progress because we have our very first competition this Saturday, and we need to do our best there. I'm not expecting you to go all out because it is, after all, our first competition, and we'll have many more after that." All the band nodded in agreement. "But as I said, it doesn't matter this performance, or the next. What really matters is how we do on November 2nd, in Scranton, for championships. That's what really matters."  
  
I nodded along with everyone else, but upon mentioning of championships seemed to strike a bell within my mind. ~November 2nd,~ I thought to myself. ~Why does that sound so familiar? I feel that I've heard it before, why is that?~ I shook my head. ~It's nothing. It's championships date, that's why it's familiar. I've seen it on the calendar when I was writing all the performance dates and such.~ That's what it probably was, anyway.  
  
"Championships." I muttered to Alora and Nelly as we rolled up our flags. "I can't believe it, he's making it seem like it's tomorrow when it's not for another two months." Nelly nodded at me. "Probably trying to get us all nervous and worked up." She commented. ~Yeah, and freak me out even more! I still don't get half the work, I'm sure the judges won't like that, and I don't want the entire band to get mad at me if I lower their score.~ "Hey, Christine, catch!" Alora interrupted my thoughts by chucking my flagbag at me. "Ahh, hey!" I ducked, but not in time to keep the flagbag from smacking me in the face. I shook my head and put my flags in it, tieing the drawstring at the top.  
  
~It's nothing, Christine.~ I told myself. ~Just a date, just championships date, that's all.~ But that funny little feeling in the back of my mind that there was something else I just couldn't shake. . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Later, at dinner~  
  
Yuck, veal. I hate veal, it's so gross and stuff. I poked at it with my fork, my face looking disgusted. "So how was practice?" My mom asked. "Fine." I replied as the wind blew and sent my napkin flying across the table. It was the one day that we were actually eating outside instead of inside. "Eat it, don't just poke it." Mom said to me, glaring at me for poking at my veal. "Mhm." I said.  
  
"So, about the trip to Florida." Mom said. Trip to Florida? Oh, yeah. Every year we take a trip down to Florida at the end of October to visit my grandma and grandpa. It was going to be my grandma's 80th birthday this year, so I knew it would be a very special visit. "The tickets arrived last Saturday so we're insured to go." Mom grinned at me. It would be only me and her, as usual, as it was every year. I smiled back at her. I would be getting out of school for a week. . . for an entire week! It was actually kind of exciting.  
  
But then something nagged at me. . . something in the back of my head that had been nagging me since practice. Now that little nagging thing just went all out and hit me smack in the face. When exactly was championships, anyway? November 2nd. That was it. November 2nd. But wait a minute. . . weren't we leaving for Florida October 27th? And staying for a. . . week?  
  
Nah. That wasn't possible. There was no way at all that was possible.  
  
"Hey, mom?" I said. She turned, raising an eyebrow at me. "Yes?" "I know we're staying for a week but what week are we staying in Florida for?" I asked, voicing the question on my mind. Mom looked at me calmly and replied, "October 27th to November 4th."  
  
~November 4th. . . ~  
  
At that moment, the world seemed to speed up and slow down at the same time. My fork dropped out of my hand and clattered to the plate, spattering a fleck of gravy on my cheek. I wiped it away, unable to keep the shock off of my face.  
  
~November 4th. . . if we come back November 4th, it means that November 2nd will have already passed, and I'd have. . . missed. . . championships. . . ~  
  
There was no way. Absolutely no way!  
  
"Christine!" My mom said scoldingly to me, looking down in disapproval at the fork now laying in veal gravy sauce. ~No,~ I thought. ~Absolutely not. It won't happen it CAN'T happen!~ "Christine, what's wrong?" Mom finally asked, noting that something was obviously wrong. "November 4th we can't return November 4th we really can't!" I exclaimed finally. She raised her eyebrow at me again. "And why not?" "Because. . . because. . ." I stammered. ~JUST SAY IT!~ I mentally yelled at myself.  
  
"Because marching band championships are November 2nd and you said we are going to be in Florida then and that means I will miss the championships!" I all but shouted. "I can't miss them, I really can't! It's my first year and I have to stand by them and I can't miss them! I can't! Cancel the tickets or something, I. . ."  
  
"CHRISTINE!" Mom cut me off from my panicked yelling. "Calm down. Calm down! What do you mean, championships are Nov. 2nd?" "They are, they are!" I said. "Since when?" Mom demanded. "Since. . . we got the schedule!" I stammered. "But we can't go, I can't miss it!" I insisted, trying to quell the panic that was now welling up inside of me. Missing championships, that was like, the worst possible thing! I couldn't miss it! "Hmm." Mom was looking a cross between annoyed and ponderous. She was evidently annoyed that I just brought the subject up ~now~ and ponderous of, hopefully, a way to change the tickets to a later date.  
  
"I really didn't know they were this date." She said. "I know, I know. . ." I said, still with a panicky voice. "Still, calm down! I will try to do what I can and maybe set the tickets for a later date." Mom said. I relaxed- but not very much.  
  
After dinner, mom retreated to the computer and I saw her clicking around on the airplane ticket website. After about an hour of this, mom turned to me and said, "Christine, there's nothing I can do. All the later flights are booked, and the ones earlier wouldn't help much either." My heart sank. I just sat there, unable to find words to express the whirlwind of conflicting emotions I felt. "Okay," I said finally, and weakly. "But. . . but. . . then that means tomorrow you will have to tell Mrs. Loren that I won't be there. I'm not going to." I said to her, finishing. Mom nodded at me, understanding. "Yes, tomorrow when I come to get you from practice I will tell Mrs. Loren." Well that was good, at least I wouldn't have to tell her that.  
  
But that didn't mean anything at all-I would still be missing the championships.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Practice, the next day~  
  
I looked outside. It was raining drearily, the ground soaking up the wetness and the trees dripping water. Practice, on this wet day, was obviously inside. I suppose I was a bit relieved; at least when my mom came I wouldn't have to call her outside.  
  
Taking my flags, I followed the rest of the guard into the cafeteria to practice, keeping silent as I set up my flags. Luckily that wasn't unusual for me, I usually didn't say much at practice. Today I was at a loss for words and couldn't say anything even if I wanted to. We set up in a block, doing drop spins and learning some new work for our show. I did all of these things with a blank expression on my face, smiling only of Mrs. Loren looked at me.  
  
Finally, practice was over. We all rolled up our flags, and I looked outside to see if my mom was coming yet. "Hey, what's wrong?" Asked Alora, noticing my clearly unattached mood. "Nothing." I lied. She raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." I said with a sigh, spotting my mom as she ducked inside the school to get out of the rain. "There's my mom, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." I said quickly. "Okay." Alora replied, shaking her head at how strange I was being.  
  
"Hello." My mom said when I went to her, still holding my flags. "You tell her." I said darkly. "I don't want to." Mom nodded, and went up to talk to Mrs. Loren, me following behind her. "Yes?" Mrs. Loren said. "Ah, I'm not sure Christine has told you yet, but I have something important to tell you." Mom said. Mrs. Loren looked at me. "Yes, she mentioned something important before practice. What is it?" Mom looked at me. I nodded very very slowly. "Well, I know that championships are November 2nd," my mom began. Mrs. Loren nodded. "Well, my mother-Christine's grandmother-is having her 75th birthday on October 29th. So awhile back, we planned a trip that would be for a week and we would fly down to Florida and celebrate her birthday. We've been doing this for quite some years now." Mrs. Loren nodded again, indicating for my mom to continue. I hugged my flags close to me, wanting to hide behind their cool metal poles and their extravagant silks forever. "This trip was planned for October 27th for the day we are to leave. The return date will be. . . November 4th." She said, finally saying what she needed to say. "We will be in Florida for the time of the marching band championships, and Christine will miss them." My mom said. I closed my eyes. Those words still cut through me horribly. "Is that true?" Mrs. Loren asked, looking at me. "Yes." I said. My voice sounded squeaky and high.  
  
"I see." She said. "Well, I don't really know what to do about this. If you are going to actually miss the final championships, there will be a hole in the drill." "I know." I said, my voice still squeaking as I held in the tears threatening to spill over. A few months ago I'd love to have been stuck missing championships, and now? Now I actually wanted to stay.  
  
Mrs. Loren sighed, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Christine, no one's worked harder than you have been doing these few weeks." She said. "I mean, you came in here not knowing what to expect and wanting to quit and you stayed. That takes a lot of courage." I managed a small smile. "Knowing Mr. Piquano, he would be wanting to take you off the marching band all together."  
  
What?! I looked up at Mrs. Loren, looking horrified. Take me off the marching band? No, no they could never do that! No. . .  
  
"I know you want to stay for championships, don't you?" She asked. "Yes." I whispered, my voice trembling. "And I want you to stay in marching band. You've put in a lot of effort and I don't want that all to be wasted because of some arrangement that was made before the season started." I nodded again. "I will talk to Mr. Piquano, I will do all I can to convince him to keep you in for now. We will come up with an agreement. I'll speak for you, Christine, I promise." Said Mrs. Loren. "Thank you." I whispered.  
  
"Yes, thank you." My mom said finally, indicating for me to come along. I gave a slight smile at Mrs. Loren. I couldn't express my emotions at this time, fear, sadness, and gratitude that she would help convince the director to let me stay. I went to the band room and put my flags away, then followed my mom out to the car.  
  
Yes, gratitude. She would help me, she said. She would help me stay in marching band even if I would be missing the finals. That was definitely good.  
  
But now. . . what would become of me now? 


	7. Chapter Six

((a/n: okay. . . I'm hoping this won't suck. This isn't the only story I'll write. . . once I finish last year's story, which is this, I'll move on to this year's. This year's I'm sure will be much better because I was actually there and experiencing the marching band thing first hand, as supposed to here where I watched it all from afar while still being part of it. Now my main problem is what to call this. . . this, I guess, group of books. There is this story, then the next one I write, and then if my friends continue to try to talk me into joining Innuendo guard then that will be another story altogether. So, I'm trying to figure out what to call this group of stories. If any of you have any ideas, suggest it in your reviews. That would be really smashing. That's all for now))  
  
There it was. . . the high school. It was yet another day for practice, and here I was walking up the road to the high school from our middle school. Another long walk to practice. But I was getting used to it because by now it was a routine thing.  
  
A car next to me honked. How distracting! The car honk drove me from my thoughts. . . whatever they were. I turned, but instead of seeing a normal car honking at me, it was Mrs. Loren in her car. She smiled and waved, stopping and rolling down the window. "Come on in, I'll give you a ride." Mrs. Loren said. I smiled; relieved I didn't have to walk again. "Thank you!" I said. She opened the door and let me get in and drop my bookbag on the floor. "You're welcome. I really shouldn't be doing this but I can do it this once." She said. "Thanks." I replied. She started a drive up to the high school.  
  
"I talked to Mr. Piquano." She said. I turned to look at her, fearful of the outcome. What did he say? Was he going to kick me out of marching band altogether? "Well, you know how you do that interesting little dance sequence in the beginning?" She said. "Yes." I replied. I knew that sequence. . . there was a part in the beginning where we all had these cloak things and would do this sort of dance with. Then we'd all drop our cloaks on the front sideline, pick up the flags, and go into doing flagwork.  
  
"Well, he said that he can't keep you in for the entire drill. If he did, then at championships there would be a large hole and the judges would notice that." I nodded. "He wanted to kick you out of the marching band altogether, but I managed to talk him out of it. I got him to make a compromise. . . that you do the dance sequence in the beginning, and then stand at the front sideline for the rest of the show." She explained.  
  
A compromise? She managed to compromise with the unmoving Mr. Piquano? How was she able to do that? I didn't know. . . my mind was still busy trying to process all this. So as Mrs. Loren had it, I would only be in the opening dance sequence and not the rest of the show. But she managed to talk him into letting me stay? That was. . . very good. As strange as it sounded coming from me, I didn't want to be kicked out. . . not now. Not after all of this. "Okay," I said, when my mind was finally able to comprehend. "So what do you want me to do?" "Well, after the dance sequence is over and everyone drops their cloaks at the front sideline, you can collect them all and then stand at the front sideline." She said, continuing in her explanation.  
  
"Oh, I see." I said. So that's what I'd be doing. . . doing one sequence and then collecting cloaks and standing at the front sideline. "Do you want me to start today?" I asked. "Yes, better get into the habit of it." Mrs. Loren sighed. "It was the best I could do." She said. "That's okay." I replied. "It was good enough."  
  
So we got to the school. I thanked Mrs. Loren for the ride, then went inside. "Hey." Alora said to me, waving. "I have your flags. . ." she sounded uncertain of this fact, even though she held my flags. "No," I said, sighing. "I won't need them." "What? Why not?" "I'll tell them all before practice starts." Mrs. Loren said to me, coming in behind me and then going into the band room. "Okay" I replied. "Tell us what?" Nelly asked, poking my arm. "She'll tell you. Let me have those." I took my flags from Alora, putting them back in the band room. They were both looking at me very suspiciously.  
  
After we all went up to the field and set up in a block, Mrs. Loren called us all to her. I knew what was coming, and stood by Alora and Nelly for support. "You might have known this already, but Christine is going to be in Florida for the week of championships, and she is going to miss them." Mrs. Loren began. Alora raised an eyebrow at me, while Nelly just blinked, bewildered. The other guard members looked at me with a look of surprise. Mrs. Loren then went on to talk about what she and Mr. Piquano had come up with. . . my standing at the sideline and collecting the cloaks. It was short, luckily, because then he called the practice to begin. I sighed, secretly glad. . . and yet not glad. . . that practice was starting. "It's okay," Cara said to me. "Stuff like this happens all the time." But I could tell by her voice that she was disappointed. Nowhere near as much as I was. The rest of the guard seemed to understand, but they too were sad that I wouldn't be joining them fully. "That's ridiculous." Alora said. "Just ridiculous. Maybe your parents will let you stay with me for that week when they go to Florida!" She suggested. "I'd like to, but I doubt my parents will let me." I replied. "Alas, too true." Alora replied, shaking her head.  
  
We set up in our drill spots, beginning the practice. I took my cloak and put it on, feeling the heavy silk around me. ~I know where my drill spots are~ I thought. ~I really do.~  
  
The show opened up, and I walked out onto the field. The dance sequence went well. . .I did it well because I knew it pretty good. Then the end of the first song (and the dance sequence), we all ran to the front sideline. ~Now what?~ I thought. ~Okay. . . get the cloaks. That's what Mrs. Loren told me.~ Not really knowing what else to do, I ducked down low and scooped up as many cloaks as I could. When I was finished I dropped them all alongside some of the pit equipment. "Stand over there," Mrs. Loren hissed as she walked passed me, directing the guard. "Near the 35 and the 40." I nodded, and scurried over to stand there.  
  
And I did. . .I stood there. I stood there and heard the music, and couldn't help but think, ~I know where my drill spot is. I really do.~  
  
Lucky for me, Nick the Drill Guy decided that he wanted to go over the beginning part of the show several times. I was glad for that, it meant that I could actually march on the field. The practice went fairly well, except I still felt this sense of distance. . . like everything seemed so far away and yet I was right there with it. One day I was in the field marching, part of the marching band, and the next moment I was on the outside, gazing in at what I was part of. It was so very strange.  
  
"Alright." Said Nick. "As you all know, this Saturday is our first competition. It's at Virani High School, and that's about 45 minutes away. It's the very first competition so I'm not expecting a super high score, a first place, or anything. But I will be expecting all of you to go out on that field and do your best."  
  
Do my best. Yes, I would, wouldn't I? What ~would~ I be doing, anyway? I honestly didn't know.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
~Saturday~  
  
The words "First Competition", even though I wouldn't be doing flagwork, still gave me this feeling of. . . wow. First Competition. Really, say it with me. . . First Competition. For my entire marching band career. . . however long or short it would be. . . this would be my First Ever Competition. I've never competed before, I don't know what it's like, and even in my little spot by the front sideline, I'd still know that I would be competing.  
  
The practice was short. . . gasp. A short practice. Mrs. Loren continued to instruct me in the ways of gathering cloaks and standing on the front sideline. And I myself still didn't like this. . . I stared at the people marching and wished like anything that I could join them. They looked so together, so marching. . . And I still knew where my drill spots were.  
  
Soon after our practice was over, we loaded the trucks and changed. Changing this time was somewhat more organized. . . we had no guard members falling all over each other. I suppose we were now getting more experienced in putting on our uniforms. But I still wore the uniform. . . and that still signified me as part of the guard.  
  
I dragged all my stuff onto the bus and dropped into the seat by Alora and Nelly. "I get the window!" Nelly proclaimed. Somehow, the three of us squashed ourselves in the little two seater. I got the aisle seat, and managed to stick one leg out into the aisle to keep my balance. Half my butt cheek was on the seat, half off. I balanced on my foot. The bus gave a lurch, and then was off. "Wow. . . first competition." Alora remarked to me. Of course, that was probably the only thing said to me on the bus today that actually made some sense. Around me, I heard snatches of conversations from the other band members. None of them had anything much to do with marching band. . . mostly things such as, "Can I have half of that sandwich?" or "And then he took my paper and ran out of the room!" or even "Yeah, I like chorus." The only conversation I heard that was relatively related to marching band was, "Hey, that's my plume! Give it back!" The bus gave a sharp turn, sending me knocking into the seat across the aisle. I stuck out my arm, hitting part of the seat and keeping me from falling completely out of the chair. "How'd I know that was going to happen?" I said, shaking my head. Nelly grinned and squashed farther in in the chair, allowing me to get my other butt cheek more of the way onto the seat.  
  
Eventually, after about a 45 minute ride, we arrived at Virani High School. It was a big high school. . . I couldn't even see the field from where we were. The band had almost finished changing (they changed on the bus, and to this day I can't figure out how they do that), and we were ready. I hoped we were ready. Some random person came on the bus and stamped all of our hands. I looked down at the stamp. . . a little Snoopy. "What's this for?" Nelly voiced. "It's so we can get back in after we load the trucks." Kat said behind us. She was sitting with Carrie. "Aha." Nelly said, sitting back down.  
  
We got off the bus, exchanging a few words and fixing whatever part of our uniforms that needed to be fixed. Mrs. Loren came to us, herding us all to the truck to get our stuff. The other guard members took their flags in their arms, and then took their own cloaks. I took mine off the rack, putting it over me and tying the string around my neck. I had to admit, as much as these cloaks seemed like a burden, they were kind of cool. Cloaks were always cool, to me at least.  
  
We found ourselves practicing in a little section off to the side. There was a fence in front of us and some trees. We set up in a block, I in the back. Mrs. Loren first directed us to go over the cloak work, and I felt glad for that. It gave me something to do. But then, alas, they had to practice the flagwork, and I just stood there and watched them. I knew that work. I really did. And I could do it, too.  
  
Suddenly, there was a call of, "Okay, the band is lining up!" Upon that, all the guard scrambled to get their flags and cloaks together. "Guard, line up alongside the band and get ready! We're marching on soon!" I took my cloak and flung it over my shoulders, following the rest of the guard over to the band. They were lining up in the usual way, the way they always line up to march onto the field. As usual I stood in between Danni and Shelley. We marched to a short cadence up to this spot alongside the school. I could see the field from here. . . see the band that would be ending their performance shortly.  
  
A wave of sudden nervousness caught me off guard. What was there to be nervous about? It was just. . . just. . . Just my first competition.  
  
As always, a usual exchange of "good lucks" went around, both through the band and the guard. I wrapped my cloak tight around me, not so much securing myself against the wind as trying to shoo my nervousness away. I had performed this show before! I ~knew~ it!  
  
"Band, atten HUT!" Called the drum major. I snapped into attention just like all the rest as the drummers started their cadence. This was it. . . this was really it. . . my first competition. I marked my feet with the beat, and then we marched off. "Don't look at the field," Hissed a trombone player next to me, noting my fearful glance at the field. "It's bad luck." Heeding the trombone player's words, I averted my gaze from the field to the lights over the field.  
  
"Now entering the field. . ." I heard the announcer blare and echo throughout the entire field. Now I ~had~ to look at the field. . . we were marching right into it. "The Ponra High School marching band!" "SPLIT!" Called the drum major. The band went into the back of the field to warm up, and the guard went to set up all their flags. I didn't go with them, instead I ran back to the starting line of the show and stood there. I felt the field crunching under my thin marching boots, felt the wind tugging at my cloak. . . and also felt this sense of pride. Yes, I was proud of this marching band, even though our season has barely begun.  
  
The band ran out into their positions at the field, and the guard came to stand where I was. "Are the judges ready?" The loudspeaker blared. "Is the band ready?" He continued. ~Is the guard ready?~ I thought. ~They never ask that question.~ "Ponra High School, you may now take the field in competition!" And with those final judges' words, my first competition. . . began.  
  
"Bum. . . bum bum. . ." The first drums of the show began. I stood up, striking my pose with my cloak. "Bum bum bum. . ." Shelley struck her pose. "Bum bum bum bum. . ." That was the final set of opening beats. The music began, and I began my routine. I knew this cloak routine, every bit of it. Unfortunately, the selection of music that the cloak work went to ended all too quickly. The guard ran to the front sideline, ducking down and throwing their cloaks onto the ground. They picked up their flags and went into the next routine, and I. . . I went about my job. I hunched over low, scooping the shiny and slippery cloaks up into my arm, and praying that no one really paid much attention to me. Gladly finished, I dropped the cloaks all by the pit equipment and went to stand by my designated spot.  
  
Briefly, I lifted my head. I knew that song, I could hear it in my ears. I saw them doing the flagwork that went with it, and moving in their drill spots and I couldn't help but think, ~I still know my drill spots.~  
  
~LATER~  
  
After our show was over, we really didn't have much time to do all else. We loaded the trucks and put all the stuff away before we went back to the stands. Awards were soon. . . very soon. We all piled into the stands and sat close to each other. I watched the last band perform, and my then my nerves were very tense. Talie, as guard captain, went with the drum major to see the awards. When the awards were called, the drum major, field captain, and guard captain would have to be on the field to receive the awards. We all wished Talie good luck as she went out.  
  
The bands next to us didn't' seem to look tense at all. They looked confident, like they actually knew what they were doing! I hoped that from where we sat, we did as well. Alora sat close to me. We both here and there exchanged looks of nervousness. What would become of this? Did we even ~know~ what would become of this?  
  
"Come on, we have to show those other bands who we are!" Shouted Cara, running down to the bottom of the bleachers and staring up at us. "Cheer! Shout! Whatever!" She waved her hands, evidently wanting us to be more enthusiastic. As if catching her enthusiasm, Andy, a saxophone player, ran down next to her. "WHEN I SAY 'BOO' YOU SAT 'YATT'!" He screamed at all of us at the top of his lungs. "BOO!" He shouted. "YATT!" We all replied. "BOO!" "YATT!" "WHEN I SAY 'BOO' YOU SAY 'YATT'!" "BOO!" "YATT!" "BOO!" "YATT!" I shouted along with them, getting caught up quickly in what I'd someday know as "a marching band high." I shouted the words back at him (even though I had no idea why we were shouting this) and got this amazing sensation of pride and togetherness from everyone.  
  
"Awards!" Blared the loudspeaker. Andy and Cara darted back up and into the stands, taking their places by the stand rails and looking out onto the field. My eyes widened as I looked toward the field, feeling this anticipation and excitement. "Come on, come on. . ." Alora hissed next to me. I bit my lip. "Fifth place in group IIa. . .Shawngrove High School!" Wherever that high school was, I could hear them cheering. "Fourth place. . . Metro High School!" Likewise, that band started their cheering. The rest of us only grew more tense. . . this had to mean that we made it into the top three!  
  
"Third place. . . with a score of 78.3. . .Ponra High School!"  
  
That was us. . . wait a minute, THAT WAS US! THIRD! Suddenly, it didn't matter that we made only third, that two other schools got a higher score. Who cares what their score was? All the announcements made after that were drowned out in a bout of screaming and cheering, shouting until our throats were hoarse. I cheered as loud as I could, my voice blending with the rest as we all jumped up and down. Nelly gave me a big hug, I hugged her back. The sudden joy surprised me. . . it shocked me how amazing I was feeling! And for a third place, no less! "YEAH!" Cara screamed. "TAKE THAT!" She yelled to the band next to us. Andy stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. "And we also won best percussion!" Shouted the percussion section leader. I didn't hear that announcement through all the noise, but I'd definitely take their word for it.  
  
We all ran down from the stands, nearly trampling each other to get to where the drum major and Talie were. "THIRD!" The drum major shouted, holding up the trophy triumphantly for us all to view. "And best percussion!" Added the field captain. We all managed to scream ourselves hoarse one more time before alas, we had to go back to the bus.  
  
Back at the bus, emotion still ran high. All the drummers had these big stupid grins plastered on their faces, and even I, who was standing at the front sideline, felt a sense of accomplishment. Third place, at my first ever competition, was something that I thought was very very good! "We did it! Congrats, all!" Talie said. Mrs. Loren just wore a large grin, congratulating each of us in turn. The bus ride home was great. . . everyone was so happy and so high on marching band that it was just. . . great.  
  
By the time I got home later that night, my parents were sharing my victory. "Congratulations." They said. "YES!" I replied, unable to contain my joy.  
  
And if this was anything like what the rest of the season would be like. . . then, even in the position I was in, I couldn't wait. 


	8. Chapter Seven

((Woot! I have a title for my series now!! There's going to be about 4 books in it so far and counting. The series is now called "The Music the Moment You Want It". I got that from this thing my band director had up all over the school to 'inspire' us for championships this year. Is that a good series title? And this chapter is going to be pretty short))  
  
The rest of the season, surprisingly, only got better and better. At regionals, we took a good second against I think 5 other bands. Regionals were at a local school surprisingly. . . usually they liked to take us to strange and far off places for our competitions.  
  
The next competition we had was just a random one, not anything special. We came out there with a good second, as well as this time a best music and best marching. Mr. Piquano was very pleased with that one because we got some special awards.  
  
My ever present goal to somehow get rid of my tickets really didn't work. My mom couldn't withdraw the flight and get the money back, so eventually I had to face the facts. . . there was no way I was going to get out of this, as hard as I would try. For now, all I could do was hold my head up high and march in formation with the rest. I did at least try to keep up my colorguard skills, after we finished the first song and I took my place behind the sideline. I had my weightless banana flag with me (I called it the 'banana flag' because the colors looked like a banana-shades of yellow), and whenever I stood behind the sideline I'd try and make up work to some random song. I think I still even remember some of the routine I made to this one song, a routine I made for Mrs. Loren. Fat chance I'd ever actually perform it for her, though.  
  
Mrs. Loren supported me throughout the season. She inspired me, she gave me the strength to stay and hold my head up and march with the rest. And for that I'd always thank her.  
  
Over the months we also got a second instructor. Her name was Diana, and she was a college student who happened to be really good at colorguard. Mrs. Loren had told us all that she had been doing guard for a very long time, and had came to help us. She made up parts of our show. . . and when she did that I was actually kind of glad I wasn't there. I attempted to learn the work she made, but I had no idea how to do it and was glad I didn't have to.  
  
I'd have to say I really didn't like Diana all that much. She seemed kind of rough, and she moved very fast through the work she taught. She was very distant with me, but that was probably because I was hardly there to know her and to know the work. But Mrs. Loren was still our main instructor, and thankfully, nothing could change that.  
  
So the months went on, the practices and games went on, and we got many seconds at our competitions. But the time was fast approaching. . . the time where I'd go to my last competition of this season. . . my first season.  
  
((Yep, that ~was~ really short)) 


	9. Chapter Eight

((a/n: They didn't find anyone to replace me, they just somehow worked the drill spots of the guard closer together as to fill up the gap))  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, looking out the window. The sky was gray and overcast, and the wind howled through the trees. It was one of those days where you'd normally give one look outside before deciding it was too cold and huddle back under the covers. Unfortunately for me, today wasn't one of those days.  
  
In exactly one day from now, I'd be on that dreaded plane to Florida. I'd be soaring a million miles away (or so it seemed) from that marching field (erm, football field) and from my marching band. But that was tomorrow. For now I'd just focus on today, my very last competition. The practice started at around 12 and went until 4. I decided the previous day that I really didn't need to be there for all four hours because at least three of them I'd spend at my usual place, the sideline. So I told Mrs. Loren that I'd come in at two because I "had to pack." I got up around 10 (ahhh sleep) and actually did some packing. The four hours I had until I came to practice went by quite fast, and the next thing I knew, my dad was dropping me off at the school.  
  
It ~was~ cold. I tried to bury myself into the jacket I was wearing, but that didn't do much. The wind cut icily through me as I took the banana flag I practiced with (well, played around with, really) and headed up to the field. The wind wouldn't leave me alone. . . it ruffled my hair and blew the flag silk against my face.  
  
"Mrs. Loren?" I called as I got up to the field, unsure what to do next. Mrs. Loren was directing the guard, indicating who should go where and who should do what. She glanced over and saw me. "You came!" She said, sounding surprised. "Yeah." I replied. Of course I came. I really didn't want to, but this was my obligation and I was bound to it. Mrs. Loren glanced at the field. "We're doing the drum solo right now. I suppose that for now you can sit on that bench. I'll make sure to get you if we do the first song." She said. "Don't worry. I'll have them do it a few times." She smiled and patted me on the shoulder. I forced my numb face into a smile and sat on the bench.  
  
It was very cold. There were instrument cases on either side of me and what I think was a drummer on the other side of the bench. There were drums next to that. . . person. The person was wrapped up from head to toe and all I could see were two eyes peering out from a scarf. Ah. . . I knew who this was. It was Pete, one of the drummers. He had the flu, but still managed to come to practice.  
  
I squinted my eyes shut as another cold wind sliced through me. The bench was cold, the wind was cold, even the field under my feet was hard and cold. I stared at them all marching in their drill spots, stared at that now empty space that was once mine.  
  
And strangely enough, I knew exactly where my spot was in that drum solo. Back at band camp (back, waaaay back), when I was still confused and learning, the only spots I really knew perfectly were the drum solo. That gave me a smile, remembering those days. Band camp. So hot. So evil.  
  
But that was band camp. One doesn't really like to think of band camp longer than necessary. I sat on that bench for quite a long time. The drummer next to me did, too, but he hardly ever moved and at times I wondered if he was even alive. It was too cold to bother with making up random routines with my banana flags, and too windy as well. The band director and the drill guy called out things. Mrs. Loren did, too. I checked my watch repeatedly over the course of the next few hours. Nothing changed. . . much.  
  
"Final runthru!" Called out Nick the drill guy. I leaped off the cold bench in anticipation. Was he serious? "Christine," Mrs. Loren said, walking off the field and taking her place by the drum major to direct the guard in the runthru. "You've been sitting on a cold bench for 3 hours." She said, smiling sadly at me. "Yeah." I added dryly. "Now's your chance. Do this runthru." I smiled up at her. This was, in truth, my final runthru.  
  
I took up my cloak and threw it over my shoulders. I ran over the hard grass to where the guard was, waiting for the music to begin. "Welcome back among the living," Nelly remarked to me. I grinned at her.  
  
The cymbals crescendoed (is that a word?) into their opening sequence, and I took my cloak and did the work as I had never done it before. Haha, the person in front of me just got her cloak caught on her head. I only did that once.  
  
With a final whoosh, I descended down into the end of the song. Great. . . the song was over. That song was way too short, in my opinion. I scurried like a squirrel ((a/n: squirrel. . . last year. . . haha)) over to the front sideline, scooping up the shiny cloaks in my arms. How many more times would I have to do this? One. That's it. Just one.  
  
I stood at my usual place for the rest of the show. I actually, and surprisingly enough, still knew some of the work. Note the ~some~, of course. And soon the last song ended, and the final practice (well, my final practice, at least) was over. It seemed so much like all the other practices. It ~was~ like all the other practices, actually. I trotted over to where Mr. Piquano was giving his post-practice speech. "This is it, you guys," He said. "This is your last competition before championships. It'll be your time, give it your all. Prove to us one last time that you can do it." He waved us off. The band departed, and Mrs. Loren (and Diana, too) called all the guard over.  
  
Mrs. Loren looked at me. "First of all," She began, making sure that she had the attention of the entire guard. "I have someone I would like to thank." I glanced around. Alora caught my eye and shrugged. "Christine, could you come here a moment?" She beckoned me forward. ~Of course I could,~ I thought. Mrs. Loren put her hand on my shoulder. "I would like to thank you," She said. "For staying. You've shown a great amount of courage in your role, coming in here those months ago wanting to quit, and then not quitting when you were given the chance. You stayed even when you found out you'd be better off leaving. That takes a lot of courage and acceptance, and I would like to thank you for that." Mrs. Loren handed me a pair of gloves. I grinned inwardly. They were these really funny marching band gloves. They had our school colors on them, blue and white. On the top of the gloves in blue letters it said, "Ponra High School" with a music staff, and "marching band" underneath the music staff. The actual glove hand part had little blue music notes. "I'd like to give you these gloves as a sign of my appreciation. I'm glad you were in my guard this year."  
  
I blinked, trying to dry my eyes. There was ~absolutely no way~ that I'd be caught crying in front of my colorguard! Abandoning all pretenses, I hugged Mrs. Loren, and she hugged me back. And for that moment, I truly felt like this ~was~ worth it, and for once, fate was on my side.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Where ~are~ they?!" Mr. Piquano exclaimed, walking back and forth in front of the school. Me, Alora, and Nelly had all huddled together around our bags. We were waiting for the buses to come. They hadn't come yet. Mr. Piquano was pacing along the sidewalk in front of the school, alternatively looking at his watch and looking up for the buses. "Where are they?" He demanded. "Don't those idiots at the bus company know we ~can't be late for a competition???~" He looked extremely annoyed.  
  
Finally, after about 20 minutes of this, Mr. Piquano threw his hands up in exasperation. "That's it!" He exclaimed. "What can we do? We certainly can't wait for these idiots to get their thing together. We have to get to the competition." He began a heavy conversation with Nick the Drill Guy. "We'll have to carpool it. How many seniors have their cars here today?" All the seniors, including Chrisabel, raised their hands. "Okay. Each of you can take several band members in your cars. I know the way to Mystic High School, so you can all follow my car. Band members, we'll put some of your stuff in the same truck with the instruments. Load up!" He began directing people to put their stuff in the truck. Me, Alora, and Nelly exchanged looks. "Weird," Alora remarked. I chucked my garment bag in the truck with Nelly's. "Now, who are we going with? Chrisabel?" Nelly asked. Alora looked both ways before whispering, "I don't really want to. I mean, if she gets lost, I don't want to be in the car with a hysterical 18 year old right before a competition." She admitted. "Good point." I agreed.  
  
"I can give you three a ride," Mrs. Loren said, overhearing our conversation. "Okay!" I agreed quickly. "Sure, I'm in." Nelly said. "Alright. If you both are." Alora said with a sigh. We took our regular bookbags and got into Mrs. Loren's car, squishing in the backseat. I grinned, sitting in the middle between Nelly and Alora. Mrs. Loren started up the car, switching the heat on. "I know the way to Mystic High School," She said. "If we get lost, I can find the way there. One of my daughters used to go there." She explained to us, pulling out of the parkinglot. I smiled, looking out the window at the growing darkness. This wasn't that bad at all!  
  
"I can't believe this is Christie's last competition," Nelly said. I glared at her for using my nickname. Is my name Christie? I think not! She grinned back at me, knowing that I hated that nickname. "I can't either." I said. "It doesn't seem like it should be." "It doesn't seem like it's the last competition before championships, either." Alora continued. "It seems like we still have many more months to go." "Yes." Nelly agreed. "That's how it always is," Mrs. Loren said. "When it comes to the end, it doesn't seem like the end." I smiled at them. That was true, what Mrs. Loren said. When it comes to the end, it doesn't feel like it should be the end. Not ever.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The ride to Mystic High took about 20 minutes. Those 20 minutes flew by too quickly. It was great, being in Mrs. Loren's car, all of us chatting. It was one of those moments that make you love marching band even more. But alas, we got to the school. We all left our stuff in Mrs. Loren's car, then went to the truck to get our garment bags. We put those in her car, too, and then went for a final practice.  
  
By now it was completely dark. The lights were on all around the field, and a small amount of light shone in our little practice space. Likewise, it had also gotten colder. I wrapped my cloak around me to conserve the meager amount of warmth we had. The other guard members were shivering, just as icy cold as I was. We did a short flag runthru. I kept my cloak on because I really didn't feel like taking it off. . . it only made me feel more vulnerable to the wind. The runthru was very short, mainly because we got to the school late and didn't have much time to prepare. It seemed like we had only gotten there when Mr. Piquano and Nick called everyone in for a pep talk.  
  
"Well, this is it." Nick said. "This is the last competition before championships. This is ~it~. Consider this your final test. It's like studying for a final exam." Final exam?? How dare he compare something as good as marching band to something as ~evil~ as final exams? Well, that's band directors (and drill guys) for you. "We had a late start, but we can do this! Now, line up, and let's be ready!!" He clapped his hands and we all straightened into our two lines. I was once again between Danni and Shelley, as always. Perfectly normal, right?  
  
The drummer started his cadence. I raised my head, listening to it. Such a wonderful cadence. We marked time, then marched out onto the field for the final competition. . . my final competition.  
  
"Now entering the field, Ponra High School marching band!" The announcer blared, just like always. We split. The guard ran to set up their flags, and I ran to stand at the opening spot. Just like always. "Are the judges ready?" The announcer said. "Is the band ready?" ~Is the guard ready? Nope,~ I thought. Just like always. "Then, Ponra High School, you may now take the field in competition!" And so we will.  
  
We did the first song, and I really put my all into it. This would technically be the last time I performed it on the field being judged, so I made extra sure it would be ~the best~ I ever made it. I threw my cloak down dramatically at the end of the first song, then ran to the sideline. That was the end of my performance. I sighed inwardly, like I always did after the first song was done. I gathered up all the cloaks and dropped them on the pit board. Then I took my usual place, staring at the field out of the corner of my eye, my head down and hands clasped. And I thought, with mild amusement, ~You know what? I still know my drill spots.~  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"That was great. All I have to say is, amazing performance. That was really 1st place work." Said Nick as soon as we got off the field. "That had to be the best performance you guys have ~ever~ done." I grinned, my face flushed with pride as much as red from the wind. Alora leaned on her flags, grinning at me. I held my head up higher now. The success and adrenaline of a marching band competition was getting to me, and the post-competition thrill was coursing through my entire body. "Get all your stuff, and let's get to the stands!" Mr. Piquano dismissed us.  
  
"Ahhh Nelly Alora we did it!!!" I exclaimed. "Mrs. Loren, we did it!" I said joyously. I didn't even know what score we got, but still! I love that adrenaline rush you get. A marching band high, I've gotten to calling it ((a/n: 100 ways to get high. . . #1, marching band! Lol inside joke)). Mrs. Loren smiled at all of us as she unlocked her car so we could get our stuff. I had to get up really early the next day, so I couldn't stay for awards which were going to be around 11:00. Likewise Nelly couldn't, so my dad was going to bring her home. As we got our stuff out of Mrs. Loren's car, my dad pulled up in his blue car with the American flag on the side and honked the horn. "Oh. . . that's my dad." I said. Nelly slung her bookbag over her shoulder. "Okay." She said.  
  
"You go ahead, I'll be right there." I told Nelly. She nodded perkily and trotted over to my dad's car. "Hello, Mr. Vendredy." She said to my dad as she opened the door.  
  
"Well, looks like this is it, huh?" Alora remarked. "Yeah." I said sadly. "I really wish I could be there, you know I do." She nodded. "So do I." "Well, good luck. I wish you guys lots of luck. You know us, we are a good band, we'll win, right?" I said, grinning. Alora grinned back. "We rule." She said. I gave her a final good luck and then got my bookbag from Mrs. Loren's car.  
  
"Ah, you're leaving now?" She asked. I couldn't help but scowl slightly. "Yeah. I am," I said, now feeling very downcast. "You'll tell me how everything went when I get back to school, right?" I asked. "Of course!" She assured me. I gave Mrs. Loren one final hug. "Thank you for staying," She whispered. I smiled. "And thank you for letting me stay."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My dad drove Nelly home, and then we got back to my own house. "I am going to miss marching band." I announced as I walked into the house still dressed in my uniform. "Listen to who's talking." My mom said laughingly. "Miss 'Oh I think I'm Going To Quit,'" "Really. That was band camp. ~Everyone~ wants to quit at band camp." I concluded. She looked at the clock that now read, well, 10:30. "You'd better be getting to bed. We have to get up early tomorrow, and it's going to be a long day ahead of us." I sighed-she was right.  
  
So I got changed and finished my last minute packing, then set my alarm for 4 am. I then crawled into bed, pulling the warm covers up to my chin. And as I drifted listlessly off into sleep, I thought, ~You know what? I am glad I stayed.~  
  
((Did that make any sense? I only have a few more chapters left in this story before I continue on and write the second story. I can say now that the second one will probably be longer (and better) than this one. Review anyway, smashing!)) 


	10. Chapter Nine

Florida came, and it came far too quickly for my liking. When I woke up the next morning (my stupid alarm clock buzzing off at 4 am) I couldn't help but look at my alarm clock and think, ~Since when did marching band practice start at 4?~  
  
But we went to Florida, and I have to admit (very reluctantly, of course) that it ~was~ fun at some times. But you never heard me say that, of course. It was just. . . a trip to Florida. On the day that championships were supposed to be, my mom and grandparents went to a fleamarket. That was very boring, though. But I'm proud to say that I wore my marching band T-shirt, with our theme and I proudly displayed, "PONRA HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND" on my back. I saw some people glancing in my direction, and I just smiled sweetly at them. The entire time I was secretly hoping that someone would ask me about what I was wearing. . . so I could brag about my good ol' marching band.  
  
Luckily the trip only lasted a week, and it was very uneventful at that. The only other good thing about the trip was that I got out of school. . . and heck, ~anything~ is better than being in school.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The first day I got back, I immediately had to find out everything about what I missed. Mrs. Loren in the morning told me that at the competition before I left, at Mystic High, our feeling of success was really true. We won first place at that competition!!! First place, and also special awards being best percussion and best music. I wrote "FIRST PLACE!!!" in very large letters in my math notebook, being that I had my math notebook out when Mrs. Loren told me that.  
  
I got the details of the championships from Alora. She was very eager to tell me at lunch time. I was sitting at the table, munching away on my sandwich while my other friends Adi, Ness, and Mimi filled me in on the school stuff I had missed when Alora came running over. After snatching one of my fries, she said, "So, Mrs. Loren tell you anything?" I looked up at her then moved aside in my chair, beckoning for her to sit down. Alora sat and grabbed another fry. "Yeah, she told me that we got first at the Mystic competition." Alora grinned and took a bite of the fry, looking reflective. "Yeah, we did." She said. "Everyone was soooo hyper. As you well know." She finished the fry and gave me another big grin. "Did she tell you about championships?" Alora enquired. "Nope." I replied. "Do enlighten me."  
  
Alora then launched into a very detailed description of championships. I listened, laughing at some parts and rolling my eyes at others. "We performed alright," She said, though I could tell by the note in her voice that she didn't think they performed as good as they could. "But?" I said. "But. . .awards came." I rolled my eyes again. "No, duh. Awards always come. . ." Alora waved her hand, ignoring my sarcastic reply. "No, awards came. And we got stuff!" Immediately the animated look came back to her face. "And? What did we get? Enough of the suspense already!" But Alora was having too much fun with the suspense. She took a few more of my fries, eating them very slowly. "But we got. . ." "Yes?" "With a score of 89.3. . ." "Yes??" 89.3. . . that's a good score!  
  
"Second place!" Alora proclaimed loudly, causing several of the people at the lunch table to look at us strangely. "Second? Really?" I said, leaning forward and looking excited. "Did we really?" "Yes!" She clapped her hands together. "All the band seemed dissapointed with the second place, though." She said with a shrug. "Why? Second is good!" I said, my eyebrows raising. "It is good, me an' Nelly think so too, but you'd have to have been there to understand it." At that point Nelly had just gotten back from the lunchline, and heard ". . . second place." "Oh, telling her about championships?" She asked, sitting at the table across from me and Alora. "Yup." Alora said, grinning at Nelly. "Christine can't understand why the band's disappointed at second." "Yeah, really, second is good." I continued. "You'd have to have been there." Nelly said, opening the top of her soda can. "I think it's good. You tell her about the bus ride home?" Nelly grinned at Alora, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "What about the bus ride?" I turned back to Alora.  
  
"Ah. . . the bus ride." Alora ate yet another fry. "Diana sat with John." She said. "So?" I replied. I didn't care much for Diana, and wasn't sure I wanted to hear what she did. John was the marching guy, the guy who taught marching skills and such. "Doesn't she always?"  
  
Alora and Nelly exchanged another one of those secretive grins. "And it was kinda dark." "And. . ." "So?" I asked again. "Christine, what happens on the bus between girls and boys when it's kinda dark?" Alora questioned.  
  
I paused a moment, then my mind went back to one of the earlier bus rides. Boys and girls tended to go in the back of the bus and. . .  
  
Let's just say it's not something for middle school minds to see.  
  
I gasped, understanding now. "But. . . but they are instructors!" I said in shock. "Adult instructors!" Nelly began laughing hysterically. "They shouldn't be doing. . . that!" Alora shook her head. "But they did. I saw them. It was. . . first base." Nelly laughed harder, seeing me gape at Alora like a cod fish. "But they are instructors!" I repeated. "It was quite disturbing, yes." She said, nodding. "But that was championships." When Nelly finished laughing, she nodded along with Alora.  
  
"So, coming to awards dinner this Wednesday?" Alora asked, completely changing the subject. "Yeah." I replied. "Can't wait to see how it is. Or what it is." Both Alora and Nelly nodded again. Alora glanced at the clock, then pointed back to where she was sitting earlier. "I have to go back. See you guys at awards on Wednesday." "Okay." "Sure." Alora stole one last fry and then went back to her seat.  
  
"Congrats, though, you guys." I said, turning back to Nelly. She grinned. "Thanks."  
  
((woot the story is nearly done!! Only one more chapter and then the epilogue, and I can start on the next story which will be better!)) 


	11. Chapter Ten

I scowled down at the dress on my bed. I hated wearing dresses! They were so confining, and tights were so itchy! But today was the marching band awards dinner, and it was at a really fancy place, and I had to dress fancy. So I picked about the only fancy thing I owned: a gray dress with two white lines down each side, with a light pinkish sweater. Hey, it was the best I could do. I called Alora earlier to ask her what she was wearing, and she replied that she was just wearing nice pants. Luckily her parents allowed her to do it. . . my parents were still living in the 1960's and believed that fancy dresses should be worn to every nice occasion.  
  
Reluctantly I got into my dress and tights, knowing that it was for the marching band I was doing this; not for my 1960's parents, of course. I continued to scowl as I yanked on the small dress shoes that made my feet look pointy. This was insane! Why did they have to have the dinner at a fancy place, anyway?  
  
"Christine, are you ready?" Mom poked her head into my room, looking at me exasperatedly. "It's nearly 7:00! The dinner is in less than fifteen minutes!" "Yeah, I know." I said, giving a final yank on my shoes. "Toss that fancy purse thing in here, will you?" I asked. My mom sighed and threw a white fancy-ish purse onto my bed. Alas I could not use my regular purse, so my mom gave me a fancy thing to keep my junk in. "Thanks." I said, shoving my junk in the purse and snapping my watch onto my wrist.  
  
"Alright. Let's go!" My mom was eager to go. I flicked off my light and left my room. Dad was waiting, and he was wearing a *gasp* suit. "Ready for the awards?" He said, smiling. "Um. . . I guess so." I replied as dad opened the door to outside. "I've never been to an awards dinner before so I don't know what's going to happen." "Awards?" My mom offered helpfully. I sighed and stepped outside, the winter wind battering my face.  
  
It didn't take long to drive there, only about fifteen minutes, and I really did get there on time. Luckily Cara found me as soon as I came in and ushered me into the room we were supposed to be in. "You wait here. I'm going to find the rest of the guard." Cara said to me. "Mr. and Mrs. Vendredy, you can sit with the rest of the parents." My mom and dad nodded to me and Cara, and then went off to where the parents were. "Be right back." Cara patted my head (why? What is it with patting 8th grader's heads?) and went off into the crowd, leaving me standing alone by the entrance. I looked around blankly. It was very odd to see all the marching band dressed in finery. . . usually they wore uniforms or muddy clothes from the practice field. I couldn't see any of the other guard members and who knows where Cara had went.  
  
"Christine!" Oh thank god, Alora. I turned to see Alora coming in, wearing her nice pants and waving at me. "Did you just get here?" She asked. "Yeah. Where're your parents sitting?" Alora looked over the heads of the crowd. "Over there." She pointed. "I was looking for you, with Talie." She said, pointing to Talie who came in behind her. "Hey." Talie said. "See any other guard members?" "I saw Cara, but I dunno where she went." "Alright. I'm going to find us a table." And then Talie disappeared into the crowd as well.  
  
"Well then." I said. Me and Alora didn't have long to wait, for soon Talie and Cara returned with Alisa, Kat, Carrie, Christian (still, the only guy), Shelley, Chrisabel, and Maggie. Nelly wasn't here yet. "Is she coming?" Asked Carrie. "Yep." Replied Alora. "Come on, I found us a table. Let's sit down at least." Talie led us over to the guard table where we all spread ourselves out. I sat next to Alora and she saved a spot next to her for Nelly. Nelly soon arrived and sat down with us. . . now the entire guard was here.  
  
The lights dimmed. Mr. Piquano got up to the front pedestal, and called the two drum majors up. "What now?" Alora whispered. "Mr. P's going to say some speeches, and stuff, and they'll give out awards." Cara whispered on my left.  
  
Well, she was right. Mr. P gave some speeches on the year, and about the graduating seniors. He gave out awards to the parents who were involved with the band all this season. Then he said, "Now. The first years will get a certificate, second years a varsity letter (people went "oooh" at this), third years their gold bar, and fourth a rams letter (rams was our school mascot)."  
  
"That's us!" Carrie hissed. "First years!" The drum major, Penelope, got up and began reciting the names of the first years. "Alora Julia Jeter," She announced. Alora turned to grin at me, and then went up. Mr. P handed her her certificate. She grasped it, suddenly nervous (because now, you see, we were in front of people) and took her place in line with the other first years. Mr. P continued. "Nelly Lemnos," He called. Nelly saluted me and then walked up to get her certificate, carefree and happy as always. Finally, I heard my name called. . . "Christine Vendredy," I got up, hearing the guard applauding me as they applauded Alora and Nelly. I took the certificate from Mr. P, seeing my name written on it, then went to stand next to Alora and Nelly. Even though my name was farther down the line than theirs, we were pretty close because there weren't a lot of first years.  
  
"Congratulations, first years!" Mr. P said. All the parents and band members applauded us first years, and Mr. P sent us back to sit down. The three of us sat, placing our certificates in front of us proudly.  
  
The second years went, then third, then fourth. Once those awards were given out, Mr. P decided to show the championships video. "Ugh," Shelley said. "We suck at the championships video." Well I hadn't seen the video yet, and wanted to. So he showed the video (which I thought was pretty good), and that was cool.  
  
"Hey, how many of you remember this?" Announced Mr. P, holding up an older video. "Band camp!" Shouted Cara. "Yes, that's it!" He held the video higher. "This was the video of your performance for the parents at band camp. Let's see it, shall we?" So he popped the video in and we got to see our band camp show.  
  
It was hilarious! Wow, did we suck! Back then not a single guard member was on time, we barely knew any work, and the band just sounded. . . bad. We were all beside ourselves laughing at how bad we were, and marveling at how good we became.  
  
All too soon the dinner was over. My mom and dad met me by the door, and congratulated me profusely at my little certificate. I waved to Alora and Nelly as they left, and then left with my parents. "This was fun!" I announced, walking outside. My stupid dress didn't bother me anymore. "Did you see the band camp video? Weren't we horrible?" I said. "Yes," my dad said, chortling.  
  
When we got home, the first thing I did was put my certificate up on the piano for the entire family to see. It was so nice to see it there, the thing that said, "PONRA HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND, FIRST YEAR AWARDED TO CHRISTINE VENDREDY."  
  
Grinning I changed into my pj's and got into bed, remembering that I did have school tomorrow. And I couldn't believe then that it was over. . . my first year of marching band as of now was over. A year full of confusion and disbelief, and yet also of enjoyment and triumph. My first year, my first experience, and something I'll remember all my life. . .  
  
((Ok, Julia, I put it up! Now all I have to do the epilogue to this and I can get started on the second book which will be called "This Is So Not My Mambo" and it will be about the second year. . . and it will be really good! Better than this!)) 


	12. Epilogue

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, for now they were very cold. The field still lay in front of me. . . empty. . . without a marching band on it. Without the pit crew doing weird things and likewise with the guard. Without Mrs. Loren calling to us. Those three months had ended, and what a three months they were. Now I could stand in the bleachers and look at that field and feel like that was ~my~ field, and. . .  
  
"Christine, what the heck are you doing?" Alora's voice reached me from the entrance to the field. She was staring at me with a look of confusion; trying to make sense of what I was doing standing in the bleachers and staring at the field. "The season's over." "Yeah, I know." I said, coming back to my senses and realizing how idiotic I must look. "I was just. . . thinking," I told her, trotting down from the bleachers. "About what?" Alora walked into the field and came next to me as I was leaving. "The season." I replied with another glance. "Ah. I see." Alora said.  
  
It seemed like a good end. We won, and all things aside I think we did pretty good this season. But it was no denying it the fact that it was now over.  
  
Alora grabbed my arm and began tugging me in the direction of the field exit. She wanted me to come to her house today, and I couldn't if I was staring at the field. "So, are you going to join next year?" she asked. I turned to look at her. "What?" I replied, still coming out of my reflective daze. "Are you going to join next year." Alora repeated. A cold gust of wind caught me and made me shiver; it was really cold. Colder than it was, I hear, at championships.  
  
"Ummm. . ."I said, not sure of what to say to her question. ~Was~ I going to join next year? I didn't know. This year was frustrating because I didn't understand much of the work, and because I was hardly there at all. I shared the triumph but the triumph, as Nelly said, wasn't as true as it could be. "Um? Is that all? Just 'um'?" Alora looked at me expectantly. She wanted me to answer "yes." "Maybe." I said.  
  
"Maybe! Maybe, she says!" Alora threw her hands up in aggravation. "Only maybe?" She gave me that querulous look again. "Yes, Alora, only maybe."  
  
Then I paused, looking at the field again. I could remember that day when Mrs. Loren said she was proud of me for accepting my role, accepting my place in the band and not giving up. And that was a feeling, I knew, that I couldn't get anywhere else. No sport in the world could ever match up to the emotion of marching band and colorguard.  
  
That was truly our field. The marching band's field. A field of beginnings and endings. And I pondered. . .  
  
"Christiiiine. . ." "Yes?" "Well?"  
  
And I thought again. It was still maybe, because if anything could change your thoughts it was band camp, but then still. . . this was marching band and. . .  
  
"Okay." I said. Alora turned to me. "Is it still a maybe?" She asked.  
  
I looked ahead of me, at the bare trees and gray winter sky. Was I really going to say no? Somehow I doubted it.  
  
"Maybe," I said to Alora. "Maybe. . . for now."  
  
((WOOT IT'S FINISHED! Here you go, Julia, I finished it today because I was determined to!! Stay tuned, chaps, for the next story in "The Music the Moment You Want It" series, the next season after this, the second year. . . I can't wait to write it! Keep watch for "This Is So Not My Mambo" and. . . yeah! Smashing!)) 


End file.
